When I got married almost nineteen years ago in July, I still had some romantic fairytale pixie dust mixed with classic chick flick movie moments clouding my vision. My Braveheart husband would take care of everything. This notion, coupled with my Tenderheart optimism, would conquer any insurmountable problem. Was I naïve!

Marriage is not a Mary Poppins musical. It takes work, patience, clarity, curiosity, forgiveness. Not just love (unless your definition of love is expanding to include more virtues:). The following reflections are by no means a perfect prescription for marital bliss. They are pearls I’ve picked up from personal experience, needing a good polish every time I forget.

Are you still holding on to the good ol’ days when your partner was a perfect gentleman, lady, or person? Have they suddenly turned into someone you barely recognize? Ah, dear one. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but things change. People change. It doesn’t mean he/she/they stopped loving you. Like you, they are a beautiful being growing in the direction of what nourishes them most. The challenging part is that you both may be growing in different directions.

Once you can see this clearly, with curiosity and without judgment, it’s possible to make space for who you both are in this new chapter of your lives. Certain life events (the birth of a child, the death of a parent or other loved one, major illness, career change, big geographic move, etc.) can blast any deep subconscious discontent out from the landmine of living. Suddenly, you’re so tired of the struggle, and there’s no place left to hide. Arms up and out in surrender, what can help you pick up the broken pieces, make a mosaic of healing out of suffering?

Begin by defining who you are, what matters most to you. Engage with people and practices that support your growth. But be careful! Who you are isn’t better or worse than your partner. He/she/they are growing, too. Get curious about what feeds them. Be patient with their response. This doesn’t mean you become a doormat or a punching bag in the relationship. It’s called a relationship for a reason, implying healthy connection, not disabling connection or hanging on by a thread. You will find the balance between shouting vs. whispering to be heard, between taking the backseat or insisting on being the driver.

Make time for this new dance you are choreographing together. It’s easy (and tempting) to fill the calendar with work, social engagements, the children’s activities, caring for aging parents, and time for self-care. Sometimes you both will fall into bed after a long and tedious day with nighttime silence as a welcome reprieve. Eyelids drooping, the lips can barely formulate a Good night honey or I love you. Please don’t make yourselves the last priority! You are the sun and moon of your family planet. You will each take turns shining warmth on a joyous day or being that third eye in dark times to calm restless tides.

The poet Mark Nepo said, “To listen is to continually give up all expectation and to give our attention, completely and freshly, to what is before us, not really knowing what we will hear or what that will mean. In the practice of our days, to listen is to lean in, softly, with a willingness to be changed by what we hear.”

When I listen to my partner by leaning in softly with a willingness to be changed by what I hear, I am no longer the Wise or Gentle One. He is no longer the Logical or Tough One. We are simply one man, one woman, Braveheart and Tenderheart, trying our best to live in sync with Earth’s eternal heart.​Chances are we'll be the combinationChances come and carry meChances are waiting to be taken, and I can see

Chances are the fascinationsChances won't escape from meChances are only what we make them and all I need

Let’s take a chance. You be you and I’ll be me. Let’s listen to each other. Let’s grow. Let’s dance. Let’s be the sun and moon for our family. Thank you for taking a chance on me.

I watched how comparing mind categorized my views as inferior, ignorant, in need of something more than what I had. I felt like an outsider standing in a cold blizzard watching others through a window gathered around a warm fire in intimate conversation. At other times, I labeled my views as superior, so sure of where I stood on solid ground. I wanted to stay with people who promised comfort and connection through common perspectives based on shared experiences.

Post retreat, I realize how my experiences in small and large groups there echo my experiences in everyday life. I tend to size where I stand compared with others. Compassion naturally arises for this comparing mind because I know I am not alone. Others experience this, too.

According to Shakil Choudhury, author of Deep Diversity, “We tend to tilt towards those most like ourselves and away from those we perceive to be different. When we feel included, we tend to soar. When excluded, we tend to underperform, second-guess ourselves, and in extreme cases, get sick.” (pg.25)

I remember when my mindful parenting and yoga mentor, Jackie Long was pregnant with her son. Fumbling with my daughter’s care for the first few years of her life, I desperately wished I could push the rewind button for a second chance at parenting. I yearned to embody Jackie’s maternal wellspring of wisdom and grounded loving presence. Jackie’s words at that time were clear and kind. “You admire me because you are looking in the mirror at yourself, a part you don’t recognize.”

Now, having a better understanding of Right View, I realize that no being is isolated in their magnificence or modesty. We all carry the potential for each extreme. Perhaps the Middle Path begins with awareness of our intentions and how they inform and inspire our actions. I don’t need to emphasize expertise or deny knowledge/intuitive wisdom that can help heal myself and others. When my ego is inflated, I can invite the person with a pin willing to pop me gently. When I’m feeling stupid, I can remember my potential to learn.

We weave stories through one another,dancing patterns of dread and delight.No single colored strand is responsiblefor holding the whole tapestry together.Still, when one end of fabric frayssurrounding threads unite to stitchthe frazzled edges with kindness,till each fiber is strengthenedby the eclectic, elegant design.

We weave stories of expertise and ignorance through one another. Know single being knows it all or can possibly hold the whole tapestry together. But when one person dominates or feels deficient, others surrounding him/her/them can unite to meet this being with kindness, curiosity, and peaceful engagement till all members of the group are strengthened by the eclectic, elegant design.

The tapestry is only as strong as each individual thread. It is also quite fragile, blood-stained with ancestral stories, bright with the healing faith of our collective potential. May we recognize the divinity inside one another. May we honor the sacred within.

I used to think this name, this body, this incarnation was fixed, static. This is who Kaveri is. This is what Kaveri's body is supposed to do. An unanticipated cold and sciatica flare have humbled me.

As I read the egreetings, I am introduced to different names, places, occupations, ages, gender identities and sexual orientations of spiritual family members who will undoubtedly shape the next few years of my life. Who am I in the midst of all these beings? How would I like to introduce myself? Who are you all in between names, titles, words?

As waves wipe the slate clear, may i empty this mind of preconceived notions. We all start here in this moment, together. May our footsteps dissolve into the elements, to touch alternate shores of understanding.

Thank you for beginning to tell me who you are. May the unveiling also be an undoing of separate selves...